Bound

8.

Everyone in the room was scrambling for the attention of the same man, except Jules. He artfully evaded the trajectory of the constant, buzzing semi-circle of people following Chief Pearce all evening.

He normally tolerated stuffy fundraisers, and tamped down his boredom with a drink paired with a stream of amusing utterances from Ace. But tonight was different.

"He's been easing up on you since the news broke about Reyes. It'll blow over," Ace took a short sip of his vodka, and they both watched Chief Pearce take the stage as the award honoring him was announced.

"Fumbling a witness is one thing," Ace leaned in, "but it's probably not... expedient for you to keep fucking his daughter."
"Nothing gets past you," Jules' face didn't change.
"It's sloppy, Jules. It'll spill into work," Ace warned.

"It wasn't serious. And whatever it was is over now," Jules muttered back, "she made that clear when we got the assignment."

He knew where Severine was, despite her being disguised in her version of camouflage. Black turtle-neck dress, velvet red lipstick, and her hair pulled into a sleek bun at the nape of her neck. They hadn't spoken since their last spat in the hallway, and her eyes were deliberately avoiding his.

It was her father's night, and she was on edge. Rooms of this kind usually split into two camps; rank climbers that saw her as a stepping stone to her father, and purists that branded her a privileged fail-child. She respected the latter more.

"Thank you, everyone," Chief Pearce allowed the applause aimed at him to go on longer. "It always feels strange to be honored this way. Because to me, this job is a service."

Jules smirked. He had indoctrinated Severine with those words, but they didn't ring as sincere coming from her father. The man was a power-hungry tyrant, and his identity revolved insipidly around his authority.

The rest of Chief Pearce's remarks faded out of tune, and Jules glanced in Severine's direction again. He only caught the back of her head as she slipped through the space in the glass doors leading to the outdoor patio. He ducked into the crowd and followed, knowing Ace had eyes on him.

"Not a fan of speeches?"

Severine's long legs were on display, one crossed over the other, draped over the steps she sat on. Her effortless elegance was unintentional; almost not of her doing. The moonlight cast a particular magic over her brown skin, the king that made you believe in the divine.

"I can't think of anything I like less than a room of people gawking at my father." She took a sip of her drink.

Jules loosened the knot in his black tie, and took a seat a step below hers, looking out at the rose garden veiled in the dark.

"Do you ever regret any of this?" Jules alluded to the applause sounding behind them again. "Pursuing a career in the shadow of... that?"

"I like what I do. Some days, that's enough." That was her non-answer before she imprinted her lipstick onto the brim of her glass again.

"Sev. I'm sorry about the other day - " Jules turned to her.

"Don't do that," she shook her head. "You wanted to be the asshole. Be the asshole, Jules. Own it."
He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Her armor always appeared abruptly, and it nicked his ego this time. So he fired back.

"When you told me we shouldn't do this anymore, you implied it was because I couldn't handle it. But I'm starting to think it's you that's having a problem handling it."

"You're unbelievable," Severine scoffed. "Your job isn't on the line as much as mine is."
"And yet I'm the fall guy for what happened to Reyes," he reminded her.
Severine's eyes widened. "So, it's my fault? He died because I didn't believe him right away?"